


The Father

by thisismybrainrain



Series: centuries of brooding and blood [7]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-29 19:46:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5140268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisismybrainrain/pseuds/thisismybrainrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>what if giles was like a father to carmilla? xander and anya feature too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arriving

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skeletonannie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skeletonannie/gifts).



> thank you to cole
> 
> thank you to the creators of these characters
> 
> this is pt.1 of 2 of this giles x carm part. more to follow.
> 
> find me on tumblr: thisismybrainrain

Carmilla hugged her leather jacket tighter around herself. 

This was only meant to be a short trip to the butchers to get some pigs blood for her ‘black pudding’. The day was bright but there was still a chill in the air. She’d risen unnaturally early and left Laura in bed. Today was a day when she needed to feel like a smaller part of picture. Where the world had had it’s roof ripped off and there was no ceilings only endless sky.

She burrowed her nose into her scarf, the one Laura insisted she wear - when it was this cold. She caught the smell of the real leather of her jacket. This particular jacket she’d had since the 1980s. Rupert had given her it. It had come from his Ripper days and she’d run into him a fair few times back then. Mattie regarded him as one of the most questionably dressed at times but best humans she’d even known and Carmilla had to agree on the best human bit at least.

He was due a visit. She’d always enjoyed having debates with him over philosophy and the romantics. He knew what he was on about and Carmilla, mostly respected and agreed with him. He’d helped her when Mattie had gone on one of her big trips and Carmilla had been going through a tough time because of the storms in London that year. Back then, he was different to the tweed wearing, high energy glasses cleaning guy that he was now. He was brooding. Leather. Youth. A newbie in the world of the other, but in his own quiet way he was as hard as the leather boots she’d favoured since then.

He’d never judged her. For anything. Been there for he like a father she’d never had in the now. Her memories of her own father in the before were clouded at best. She could only recall his beard and the horses and the estate that he was always off managing and the dance halls. But she tried not to think too much about ballrooms on days like today. 

There wasn’t anything significant about today per se it was just a tough one. That was okay. That’s what Laura always told her. It was okay to have days like this. it wasn’t weakness. It was a torrid assumption to assume to the melancholic sadness of self and showing it was a downfall. Carmilla knew that of course but it didn’t hurt to be reminded. Days where she wanted to be on her own and go for a hunt or as much of a hunt as she wanted to go on. 

She found herself walking past the butchers and heading straight for the second hand bookshop. When inside she found a copy of Hamlet. The old African lady behind the desk smiled warmly at her before going back to stickering the pile of books she had on the countertop.

Carmilla had few safe spaces. She was pencilling them in slowly again in Vienna and this was one. She wanted to learn the city anew with Laura to share it with. The high ceilings of the old book shop were helping. It was airy and the smell of the pages surrounding her felt familiar and reminded her of times with Giles in libraries all across the world. 

Back when she was younger. He’d taken her off to Rome and France and Rekiyevik. All places she’d been before but there was something grand about researching and getting lost in the stacks with someone who got it. Who understood. Who she didn’t have to constantly hide her true nature from and still treated her a person not just a thing. 

She paid for book and left. She found a bench in a park near by and the trees were so tall. They were older than her some of them. It was a welcome feeling to not be the oldest dying organisim in a place. 

The fog was rising and the sun was too. There were a few dog walkers. One had a black leather lead and she thought of the horses and her mother. She closed her eyes and steadied herself. She wouldn’t go back there. She was glad the lavender was growing on the other side of the park. 

Today she wanted her head to be empty. 

Her phone buzzed in her pocked. She had a text from Laura:  
‘Carm, Giles is in the city. I told him where you were. x L’

She smiled to herself. Though she wanted the morning alone she was already feeling better for the walk. It’d be good to see him.  
She got her phone out and told him where she was. 

-

She heard his brisk footsteps and the tap of brogue boots on the pavement before she saw him. When she did, she saw Giles, slightly stooped carrying a bag full of books and two take away cups. Her nose twitched. He was too good to her.  
His large navy tartan overcoat had brown elbow patched. She laughed. Somethings really never changed. 

‘Carmilla. I got you a drink too.’

‘Thank you, Pops.’ 

‘Darling, I told you to stop calling me that. Makes me feel old.’

Carmilla laughed, ‘Giles, how do you think I feel then,’

‘Fair point. Take your blood, so I can sit down.’

‘Mmm, is it just how I like it, Pops?’ She grinned mischievously and took it from him taking a sip. ‘Ah, you did well, warm milk and blood you remembered, fine sir.’

‘I’ve changed my mind. I’m far from English royalty go back to calling me Pops please if you must, Miss Karnstein,’ he sat sipping his tea. 

‘Hey, Giles. What have you got in that bag?, Carmilla asked wiping at her pink milk moustache with the back of her hand. 

‘Shakespeare, some poetry and of course some research. Watcher things. Standard stuff. What did you get at Linda’s shop? Laura told me you were out for blood.’ 

‘It’s a heavy day, no reason just felt like I wanted to go to the bookshop first so you did good bring me a cup of red.’

‘Ah, I see and, you book?’

‘The bard himself and Hamlet of course.’

‘Yes. I can see why. Frosty morning needing art, look at line, 284 Act 5 Scene 2.’  
‘Huh okay: I am more an antique Roman than a Dane. Here’s yet some liquoir left.  
So you’re calling me old. Right, anything else?’

‘What something you quote to woo the ladies. I thought you’d already done a Richard III and got your maiden fair.’

‘You better not embarrass me, Pops and, anyway no wooing is to be done. At least, I wouldn’t use that. I’d used poetry.’

‘Okay. Are you telling me that Shakespare isn’t poetic?’

Carmilla unfolded her arms and tossed her cup in the bin beside the bench.  
What tosh, Giles. You know I love me some Shakey. But, listen, he’s not what I’d lay on the alter to articulate how much I love Laura.’

‘What would you use? Oh no, please don’t tell me you’ve been getting tips from Spike. His taste is well, interesting,’ he said, cleaning his glasses.

‘Hey, leave Willy boy out of this. Byron and Brooke aren’t that bad. Not the poets for me as you know, Coleridge will always have a place in my heart.’

‘Ah the great platonic love affair of your sweet kitten days, Carmilla. I understand dear. There was once a girl called Jenny. Though, my feelings for her were far from platonic. She loved Oscar Wilde.’ He said, putting his glasses back on.

Carmilla started at him hard. It was a wonder his hair didn’t alight.  
‘Ripper, you insensitive fuck. I was otherwise indisposed,’ Carmilla nudged him with her elbow into his ribs and he dodged her attack. Laughing deeply. 

‘Do you know the modern literary genius of our time Pops?,’ 

‘Hit me with it, kid.’ 

‘My very small inner goddess sways in a gentle victorious samba.’

‘Oh dear god. My ears bleed. I don’t need to hear that Christian Grey tosh, Karnstein.’ 

‘Oh Pop’s you said you wanted romance. I had to give you a taste of what some of the kids liked these days.’

‘Well, on that note, shall we go and find Laura.’ 

‘Pops, she’s dying to meet you.’ 

‘No darling, you’re dead. She’s buzzing with excitement, I’m sure.’

‘Remember Ripper, no embarrassing me.’

‘Hey little punk. I’ll do what I want.’

 

-

As they rounded the hall to apartment, the faint thud of music could be heard. Carmilla thought it odd. Laura was normally studying at this time.  
She opened the door. 

Single Ladies was blasting from the speaker dock and there her cupcake was doing the dance but she wasn’t alone. Xander Harris who Carmilla had met only twice before when she’d been ropped into helping Giles with some slayer training in that last summer before leaving for Austria but nope, apparently massive Beyonce nerd he was, he knew the dance too. She smirked and watched as Giles moved past her turning quickly his jacket into his arms. 

She sighed. Placing there bag of books down. Oh not embarrassing her. Nope. Not at all. Laura looked over to where Carmilla stood and stuck her tongue out. Xander put his hands up and shrugged. They all continued on. Giles walked forward and twirled Carmilla around. She huffed out a laugh. She was trying to keep a straight face but she was cracking fast. She pushed him back and sat on the sofa watching them finish the dance. 

Laura flopped down on the sofa next to her, ‘So Carm you like your surprise?’  
‘Hmm. I suppose. Giles did more so, I think.’  
‘I thought you’d be happy I was bonding with Xander over the Bey of our time.’  
‘I am happy your loving on Harris here. I thought you’d be working is all. Where’s Anya?’  
Xander sighed, ‘avoiding us.’ 

Carmilla broke then and laughed and laughed and laughed until a mug of milk was pressed into her hand by Anya, ‘Hey, Mill. How do you live with this?’

‘Live with. Tollerate.’ 

Laura gasped and tickled her in the side.

Carmilla shouted, ‘Laura! my milk.’

‘Oh boo hoo. You just said you tolerated me. Useless lesbian vampire goddess of hotness.’ 

‘Sorry, cutie, what was that?’

‘Nothing, let me mumble gumble.’Laura huffed. 

‘I’m sorry, Laura. This is my fault Giles said laying his jacket on a dining room chair I was trying to teach Carmilla here a lesson.’

‘Oh?’ Laura looked up curious.

‘I wanted to prove to her that I have every right to embarrass her. After all if she insists on calling me Pops I might as well take my fatherly duties seriously.’


	2. Photos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The photos are out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a short concluding chapter to giles x carm 
> 
> thank you to cole for the patti smith suggestion  
> & for the inspiration as always 
> 
> thank to the creators of these characters

because the night belongs to us – patti smith 

‘Ripper, we are not showing Laura the Patti Smith photos. No.’

‘But darling, it’s my duty.’

‘It really isn’t.’

‘Is.’

‘I’m gonna call Buffy and tell her what a twat you’re being to me.’

‘She’s already seen them.’

‘What?’

Laura smiled pushing her hair away from her face. She rubbed Carmilla back and kissed her cheek, ‘it’s okay, I’m sure it’s not that different to what you wear now. Lot’s of black and leather right?’

Carmilla rolled her eyes, ‘I had a different hair style, cupcake.’

Laura giggled, ‘I’ll show you my baby photos when we go to Dad’s next Christmas, okay?’ She laced her fingers through Carmilla’s and squeezed her hand to reassure her. 

‘Go on, Pops.’ She said, sighing, ‘lay them out.’

‘I do love you, Carm. I mean we’ve established my feelings. I think you’re hot.’ Laura smirked as Carmilla hid her face in Laura’s neck and kissed the spot just behind her ear and whispered, ‘stop being so cute when we’re not alone.’

Laura leant over the coffee table and picked up a photobooth strip of black and white photos. In the photos, Carmilla and Giles were in nearly matching leather jackets and had unlit cigarettes hanging out their mouths.’

‘Look at you both!’ Laura squaled. ‘So cute.’ 

Giles smiled and took the photo from Laura, he retrieved a pair of scissors from the draw in the desk, and said, ‘Laura, I want to give you one.’

‘Really?’ she bounced

‘Yes, here,’ he said, passing her a photo of Carmilla on her own. Left side of her head shaved close to her skull and array of piercings with 1698 inked into the skin behind her ear.

Laura frowned, ‘I didn’t know you had a tattoo Carm.’

Carmilla put her arm around Laura’s shoulders and said, ‘Unfortunately cupcake not the type that lasted.’ Laura made a sad face.

Giles watched them interact from his place on the sofa beside them. He reached his hand up to his earlobe. Sometimes he missed the silver hoop –maybe it was time to reclaim some of his punk days. No matter his fashion sense through the moons, in all of his years as a watcher, moments such as these were his favourite - watching those he loved love.


End file.
